


something about them

by johnnyfucksup



Category: South Park
Genre: Awkwardness, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Holidays, Idiots in Love, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn, friends - Freeform, they are kind of bored ok, they're gay af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 22:46:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18508615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnnyfucksup/pseuds/johnnyfucksup
Summary: Craig Tucker had planned to waste his holidays with smoking and drinking and being depressed. What he hadn't planned was Kenny McCormick.





	something about them

**Author's Note:**

> ok, here we go with my first south park fanfiction (those who already know me are used to friends fanfics but life goes on, doesn't it)  
> i want to warn you, that this is not (!) good stuff. it isn't badly written, but it is as creative and original as a piece of shit. but i tried. really hard. for about two weeks.  
> now, go read

Craig Tucker hated holidays. 

He knew that he was the only adolescent in the whole country who would dare to think so, but it had always been a fact. He would never say it out loud – he didn’t need any more of the “out of the normal behaviour” –, he never even mentioned it to anyone except Spike. But Craig Tucker despised having too much free time. 

He didn’t dislike free time at all. He just disliked the free time he had to spent at home. 

At the weekends, or on public holidays, he could spend his spare time at Token’s or Clyde’s or Tweek’s. They would hang out, play video games, play board games – yes, pretty lame, but they loved to destroy each other in Monopoly –, or talk. Most of the time, alcohol was involved, which, to be honest, made the whole boring-but-free-ergo-somehow-enjoyable-time a bit more enjoyable. Alcohol actually made anything a bit more endurable. Especially, when Clyde was the one to be completely piss-faced – that happened quite often, as Clyde was what one would call lightweight. 

Sometimes – or maybe, _often times_ , as it was – they would also waste themselves with other drugs. They’d meet at someone’s house, in someone’s garden, they’d plan a camping trip (once they decided out of despair on a tree house from their childhood), and then they’d install themselves and take as many drugs as they could gather. Not that Craig had ever planned to become somewhat of a drughead and abuse as many substances he could lay his hands on. But the tables had turned somewhen in eighth grade, and he couldn’t sneer arrogantly at the goths or the ravers in school anymore. 

He couldn’t even remember why their little group of outsiders had decided on taking drugs. Or whose idea it had been. Or who had organised the substances in questions. But Craig couldn’t care less about that now, as he was rather grateful for being given the opportunity of mind-altering drugs. 

Sometimes, Craig would just go out into the small and batshit crazy town of his, wander around and meet someone he merely remembered from elementary school and hang out with them. Since the start of high school, he had kind of lost contact to his former group of friends. Only Token, Clyde and Tweek had managed to stay in his reach. That didn’t mean that he had forgotten about all the bizarre shit that he had experienced with some of the other children in this town. Those adventures – he didn’t have another word for what had happened in this town – had made sure that he would never forget his classmates in elementary school. 

Craig was still in contact with Cartman – nobody understood why he occasionally sat with the rather chubby teen at lunch –, as well as with Stan. He couldn’t put his finger on why he still kept in touch with the people who had forced him into one of their many, fucked up adventures. Maybe because they were as messed up as he was. 

But as it was right now, there was literally _no one_ around. 

Token’s family had gone off to Hawaii, like they did once a year at least. Token had invited him to stroll along, but he had, proud and sullen as he was, politely declined. He wasn’t fond of the thought that he intruded in a family vacation. Or the thought of being a freeloader. Or the thought of having to spend the entire holiday with Token’s family. 

Clyde and Bebe tried to save their unsteady relationship on a hiking trip – Craig knew that they would surely not solve their problems by doing a fucking hiking trip –, Tweek used his free time to work and earn some money. Craig didn’t exactly know what happened to all of his stand-in-friends, but he did know that there was nobody around who could’ve kept him company. 

Yes, he hated holidays. 

He hated free time without distraction so much that he actually sat on the playground of his former elementary school. He had grumpily taken place on one of the swings, let the tip of his boot draw obscure scenarios into the snow, and smoked. He hadn’t done anything else for the past few hours. And he had planned on continuing doing nothing but sitting around and smoking. 

He had planned on doing nothing but smoke and listen to music and being depressed. Like he always did when there was nothing to do, or when there was nothing to distract him. 

What he hadn’t planned was Kenny McCormick. 

Craig and Kenny had never been close friends. Hell, they barely even were acquaintances. They had been in the same class for over six years now, had always gone to the same school, always kind of had a similar group of friends. There had been times of regular contact, like when they had played Lord of the Rings, or Superheroes, but those times were _passé_. Since their elementary school days, Craig had never even thought twice about Kenny McCormick. 

And now, while he was sitting on a swing and smoking his sixth cigarette, Kenny McCormick entered the playground of their old school and approached him. 

“I thought I am the only one left in South Park,” Kenny greeted him, took a seat in the second swing beside Craig, and looked at him curiously. Craig only shook his head lazily, smoked on. He didn’t really know what to make of Kenny’s straight-up-approach. Actually, he didn’t know what to make of _Kenny_.

“Everyone’s out of town, huh,” Kenny didn’t seem to mind that Craig was as talkative as a rock.

“Well, I’m here,” Craig decided to respond, because, he really hoped Kenny would shut up and move his ass out of his personal space. (Tweek had always teased him about how large his personal space was. He was not so wrong.)

“I can see that,” Craig could _hear_ how Kenny grinned under his hoodie, “and I’m quite pleased about that.” Oh yes, Kenny was definitely grinning.

“Why’s that”, Craig didn’t even try to make it sound like a question. It was a miracle that he actually opened his mouth. An even grander miracle that he opened his mouth without getting insulting. (His mother and Tweek would be so proud.)

“Because, as it seems, I don’t have to spend my holidays alone.”

“I have not the littlest intention of spending my free time with you, McCormick,” well, there went his _without getting insulting_. But, as he liked to say, nothing is insulting as long as it’s true. 

“What intentions you have aren’t important in that matter,” Kenny slipped of the hoodie, let a cigarette appear from behind his ear in the same gesture – Craig did definitely _not_ acknowledge that smooth movement –, and lit it. 

Craig really hated holidays. 

__

It was the fourth free day, and it was hell. 

Craig had always gotten up with the sun – which wasn’t that early, really, considering that the sun rose at noon –, and then he had regretted it. Because, the earlier he got up, the more time of the day he had to kill. And he hated killing time. The time he was constantly killing could be used for something… well, _productive_. But, as it was, Craig was a lazy piece of shit, so he never did anything productive, of course. 

He spent his time walking around the now abandoned town in which he grew up and recalled some of the fucked-up things that had happened here. 

He never really understood why this town seemed to attract trouble and insanity. He also didn’t understand why he was still here. At that point in his life, he would have expected to be either dead or a run-away. Neither had happened, and he was indifferent about it.

He was indifferent towards anything, nowadays, when he thought about it. Not even this bat-shit-crazy town could stir something in him. He had spent his whole life in this town, his whole life with his friends, with his parents and his little sister, but it didn’t move him anymore. (Had it ever moved him in the first place?)

He had his first love in this town, his first kiss behind the school beside the garbage – very romantic –, his first emotional breakdown in Token’s room, his first heartbreak in Tweak’s coffee shop. There had been many first times in this town, and there would be many last times, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel emotionally conflicted about that matter. He couldn’t bring himself to feel at all, really. Everything was just gloomy and grey. 

Craig didn’t know when it had happened that everything became gloomy and grey. As a child he hadn’t been that emotive as well, but he had been at least able to be interested and invested in things. Not so anymore. There was only one possibility for him to feel colours again in this dark age, to feel at all, but his dealer also wasn’t around, so no drugs for Craig.

He sighed. He had been walking around for a few hours as it seemed, the sky was tainted black and blue. When he had been small, so small that he really couldn’t remember anything at all, he had been scared of the dark. The first memory of his life was this fear of darkness. Now he didn’t even notice how his surrounding became darker and the day turned to night.

Why was he so emotionally crippled?

“What you doin’?” Kenny appeared out of nothing in front of him, hands in his parka, grinning like he always did. And way too close for Craig’s liking, so he stepped back cautiously. He noticed the triumphant twitch of the edge of Kenny’s grin, but decided to just ignore it.

“Nothing”, Craig responded after recovering from the tiny heart attack. 

“I didn’t want to scare you.”

“Of course you did”, Craig rubbed the bridge of his nose. How had he deserved Kenny McCormick? Was he really such a bad person that God punished him by sending Kenny McCormick his way to bother him?

“You got me there,” Kenny grinned his smut little grin and lined up beside him. “Where we goin’?” 

_He got to be joking._

“ _We_ are not going anywhere. _I_ am going home,” Craig snorted. Really now, what did McCormick want from him?

“You are not going home,” stated Kenny, matter-of-factly, standing abruptly in front of him and therefore made him stop in his rather quick attempt to flee. “Who do you think you’re lying to?”

“Kenneth McCormick, I assume”, he replied dryly. He really didn’t know what McCormick wanted from him. But if he thought that he would get what he wanted, Kenny was so fucking wrong. Craig would not give him anything. (Unfortunate phrasing.)

“Yes, exactly. Kenneth McCormick. And as Kenneth McCormick, I know coincidentally how it is to avoid being at home. Why else would we be wandering around this shitty town in our midterm break?”

Fuck. Kenny wasn’t as stupid as Craig had assumed.

“Well, maybe I am lying, right. But I won’t spend my time with you, McCormick, get a hint,” Craig turned away from the blond and started walking again. 

“You will,” Kenny really fucking laughed at that. What a prick. “Come on, I know a nice place to be depressed.” 

And so, Craig didn’t exactly know why, he followed Kenny McCormick (not as reluctantly as he should have).

__

Kenny had led him to some seemingly abandoned area a bit outside of South Park. Some time ago, it had been somewhat of a gas station, or something like this. There was a parking lot around it which was overgrown by grass and flowers and bushes. Not really surprising, considering that it lay right beside the forest. Or, now maybe slightly in the forest, as it seemed to gain its territory back. The small concrete house – which apparently was the former gas station – had been half eaten by the forest, surrounded by small trees and bushes. 

Honestly, Craig was a bit creeped out by this place. Especially because it was getting pitch black now, and he was alone here with Kenny McCormick. 

Not that he was scared of Kenny. Not at all. But he knew about Kenny’s image and all the rumours spreading around him. Of course he didn’t just believe the gossip, but it still didn’t hurt to be a bit cautious. 

“What do you think?” Kenny beamed. He downright beamed as he turned around to look at Craig. 

“What are we doing here?” Craig wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being impressed. As he wasn’t impressed, he wasn’t even pretending. 

“I found it last year while hiking – yes I do hike, don’t look so surprised. It was in a really bad state and it didn’t seem to belong to anybody anymore, so I declared it to be mine. I often come here.”

“But what are we _doing_ here?”

“Chillin’,” Kenny shrugged his shoulders, made a small gesture with his hand and approached the small cement box. Craig wasn’t really sure what he should be doing here, let alone what Kenny intended to do. But he was bored to death and anywhere was better than at home. So he followed him, ignoring the fact that every horror movie started like that. 

“Holy shit.” Well. Craig really hadn’t expected to enter this small shabby gas station cabin and to see what he saw.

“As I said, I often come here, so I made myself comfortable,” Kenny shrugged again.

There were still all those cupboards standing around, filled with snacks and food and drinks and other stuff, just like one would suppose when entering a usual gas station. But the stacked matrasses in the corner, loaded with blankets and pillows, and the rather ugly looking armchair beside it and the old refrigerator which seemed to work – that was _definitely not_ usual.

“I see that,” whispered Craig – he legitimate whispered but he ignored it and Kenny didn’t seem to notice –, while completely entering the small and not-so-crappy building. “This is amazing, I must admit.”

Kenny beamed even more than before, nodding and strolled around. He grabbed a bag of chips and threw it in Craig’s direction. “There’s a small stockroom in the back and it’s filled with food and stuff. You can help yourself.”

Craig stared at the chips and then at Kenny in awe. This really was amazing. Amazing and so fucking strange. He had lost contact with Kenny years ago, he didn’t even notice him in school anymore, he only heard about all those nasty rumours about him. And now, Kenny was here with him, led him into his secret batcave, as it seemed, and beamed at him contently. 

Before Craig could gain back his breath and his ability to talk, Kenny sat himself onto the stacked matrasses and patted the improvised bed beside him. Craig just followed the silent order. He was handed a beer – he didn’t even have time to ask where and when he had taken it – and lit himself a cigarette. Kenny let himself fall back onto the rather ripped but seemingly clean mattress and inhaled some deep breaths of grey smoke. 

“Why did you bring me here?” Craig asked, opening his beer and taking a sip. He actually wasn’t the beer drinker, but he tried to be polite. (Craig was never polite, he wondered why he tried to be now.)

“I was bored. And you were, too,” Kenny blew a small cloud of smoke in Craig’s face. “And everything is better than to be home.”

Craig didn’t know which home Kenny meant. But he understood _what_ he meant by it.

Craig nodded and took the cigarette out of between Kenny’s lips and treated himself to a whiff. 

__

It had been a few days since Kenny had allowed Craig to be part of his secret hide-out. Kenny had picked Craig up every morning since then, and they had walked to the small forest together in silence. Only as they had entered the gas station cabin and had locked the door behind them, they began to talk. 

Craig really didn’t know why he spent so much time with Kenny McCormick. They went to the cabin in the morning and left it late at night. They would talk the whole day, share cigarettes and alcohol and talk. They didn’t even talk about interesting things, or important things. They just gossiped and chattered and then they would laugh at themselves because they sounded like school girls. And then they would laugh at school girls. And then they would just laugh about nothing.

All it all, it was strange. But it also was pleasing. 

He and Kenny seemed to be on the same wavelength, even though they were completely different. Kenny liked heavy metal, Craig liked classic rock. Kenny liked beer, Craig preferred harder drinks. Kenny smoked light cigarettes, Craig smoked the strongest he could find. Kenny smiled and grinned and laughed a lot, Craig frowned and rubbed his temples a lot. Kenny liked girls and boys, Craig didn’t like anyone, really. Kenny wore colourful and striking clothes, Craig just dressed himself in black and blue. Kenny was a dog person, Craig was a guinea pig person. Kenny was blond – and Craig made sure to crack every joke about blond-haired people – and Craig was black-haired – and Kenny made sure to call him Snow White regularly. 

But Craig genuinely enjoyed Kenny’s company. He was authentic, he was real, he was stupid and careless and didn’t mind to be insulted and to be called names. Craig could flip him off, could make offensive comments, could be mean, and Kenny would just _laugh._

Craig didn’t exactly know why he appreciated Kenny’s laughing. And his grinning. And his easy-going personality. Craig appreciated Kenny’s whole being, actually. He didn’t understand it, really, but he did. 

“You’re spacing out, Tucker,” Kenny flicked his fingers against Craig’s forehead. “What, are you falling in love with me?”

“Of course not, fuckhead,” Craig muttered while rubbing his forehead and pushing Kenny away from him. 

Craig ignored that his face felt warm all of a sudden. 

__

“How can you insult Queen like that?” Craig hadn’t intended to get louder. But he just couldn’t let a degrading comment about Queen slip. 

“Chill out, dude, Queen isn’t even that good,” by the way Kenny’s lips twitched while saying that, Craig should’ve known that he was kidding him. 

“Fuck off,” Craig flipped Kenny off and walked ahead. He really hoped that Kenny didn’t notice his small smile. 

They were walking around South Park – literally around South Park, they didn’t exactly want to meet anyone, even though there weren’t many people around –, and shared a bottle of vodka. Craig had bought their whole alcohol, Kenny had bought the cigarettes while they hung out together. Craig knew that Kenny hadn’t had much money, and Craig drank more hard alcohol than Kenny anyway. (Craig would never admit that he supplied the alcohol because of Kenny’s well-known lack of financial means.)

While they were walking, Kenny sometimes shoved lightly into Craig. Craig pretended to not notice the warmth that spread inside him like a wild fire despite the layer of snow that lay over South Park.

__

One night, a particularly cold and stormy night, Kenny knocked on Craig’s window. 

It needed Kenny to knock many times for Craig to wake up. At first, he didn’t realize what had woken him up, until he saw Kenny’s pale face in front of his window, wrapped up in his awful orange parka. 

Craig didn’t question Kenny’s action. He didn’t ask how Kenny had climbed up to his room in the second floor, didn’t ask how he got into the locked up garden behind his house, he didn’t ask why Kenny climbed into his room, freezing and crying, and he especially didn’t ask why Kenny had come to him, of all people. Maybe Craig didn’t ask because he didn’t want to know. (Maybe Craig wouldn’t bear the answer.)

Craig just let Kenny in, ignored the red and wet eyes, told him to change into one of his pyjamas, and they played Super Mario the whole night. Craig didn’t ask anything, Kenny didn’t explain anything. They just sat beside each other on Craig’s bed, their shoulders and knees were pressed together, and Craig didn’t ask about any of these things.

Craig also didn’t ask why Kenny grabbed his hand when they finally fell asleep.

__

The days after the Incident – as Craig called it – were rather… strange. 

They still hung out every day, they still walked around South Park, they still played video games and drank and smoked. Everything was the same, expect that their daily routine now ended in Craig’s room. Kenny didn’t ask him to stay over and Craig didn’t offer it to him. They just spent the night together in the same bed and they’d hold hands as if it was the definition of Normal Behaviour between two teenage boys. Craig really didn’t know what was going on.

But Craig didn’t mind, either. 

(Craig also didn’t mind grabbing Kenny’s hand first sometimes, or covering him with a blanket when he seemed to be cold at night, or lending him his hoodies and shirts that were way too big on Kenny’s slim frame, or scooting over to Kenny while he slept, or pressing his forehead against Kenny’s shoulder.)

__

“Why do you let me stay, Tucker?”

Well, Craig didn’t mind, but maybe Kenny _did_ mind. 

“What do you mean?” Craig choked on his beer. Of course he knew what Kenny meant. At this point of their strangely close relationship, Craig could understand Kenny without him using words. And Kenny seemed to understand Craig as well, as he threw a bottle of water in his direction with a small laugh.

“You’re not stupid, Tucker, I got to know that. You know what I mean,” Kenny still gestured lamely around. Kenny laid on Craig’s bed, had pushed himself up onto his elbows to get a better view on Craig who sat on his floor with a comic on his lap.

“It was much easier when you didn’t know me so well,” Craig sighed, put away the comic and turned around to look properly at the boy on his bed. “I like your company, what a surprise.” 

Craig rolled his eyes. Not because he was annoyed. But he was feeling really uncomfortable right now. They had never talked about why exactly they spent so much time together. And if Craig was honest to himself, he didn’t want to know. 

“Like my company,” Kenny really thought about those words, as Craig assumed. When Kenny thought about something he looked up and chewed on the insides of his cheeks. “You like my company so much that you let me hold your hand at night?”

Shit, Craig really didn’t want to talk about that. Actually, he didn’t want to talk at all. Not about this topic. 

“Well, why do you hold my hand at night, then?” Craig stared into Kenny’s eyes, determined to not be the only one feeling uncomfortable and embarrassed here. 

“Because I like you.” Kenny didn’t appear to feel uncomfortable and embarrassed. Fuck.

Craig froze. And then he shuddered – hopefully only on the inside –, and his hands began to shake. 

Kenny _liked_ him. 

And suddenly, Craig realized why he let Kenny stay over every night. Why Craig grabbed Kenny’s hand occasionally at night, why he watched him sleep sometimes when he woke up earlier than the blond. He understood why he enjoyed Kenny’s company so much, why he let himself be dragged along all the time, why he surprisingly wasn’t bored with Kenny beside him.

Craig obviously liked Kenny as well. 

Well, shit. Craig was fucked, wasn’t he.

“That was a bit weird, sorry,” Kenny muttered, rolled out of the bed and searched with his eyes for his parka. “I’m just… gonna go. I’m sorry.”

This brought Craig back into reality. 

“Wait, no, I mean, yes, it was weird to just throw this at my face, but…” Craig trailed off. He had never been good with words, let alone feelings. Especially his own feelings. 

“But?” There was an awful sound of hope in Kenny’s voice. 

“I let you sleep in my bed regardless of the guest room in our house. Count one and one together, Kenny.” Craig rubbed the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed because he couldn’t believe what he just said.

“You called me Kenny, Craig.”

Craig opened his eyes. Kenny had called him Craig. And Craig had called him Kenny. 

They really were kind of hopeless, weren’t they. Not the confession Craig had anticipated. But it worked. 

Yes, it would work.


End file.
